Wicked Game
by pussyriot
Summary: The newly human Katherine Pierce wants to get her act together and see the world before her mortal death. She reaches out to her only friend Thierry Vanchure, not realising that he runs in the same circles as those who destroyed her life half a millennium ago. Once again she finds herself thrust into the middle of rivalries, used as a weapon and a toy. M for language and SMUT.
1. Chapter 1

I woke up on my fourth week of being human feeling refreshed. I'd been thrust into human life so brutally that I'd assumed I'd be dead within days, but so far, I was loving it. As a vampire, your senses are heightened. But, as a human, everything feels so much more real and vital. Being mortal, everything was now much more dangerous to me. I could die if I so much as walked over a weak subway grid, and that to me was incredibly exciting. The first week was horrible. It took me a while to get used to genuine hunger and fatigue, but once it didn't bother me, I began to see the beauty in mortal life. I'd gone out and eaten beautiful food, I'd been to wonderful concerts and plays and I'd had possibly the best sex of my life. Yes with vampire sex you had the strength and the stamina, but as a human, I felt that I was getting as good as I was giving. As a vampire, I felt as though I was doing all the work. Plus, the exhaustion I felt after sex as a human was fantastic. It served as the perfect cherry on top of an orgasm. But, after those blissful few weeks, I was beginning to feel restless. Mystic Falls was boring, and I had only one lifetime now as vampire blood did no good to me. I'd accumulated enough wealth over the centuries to have me living in luxury for a good twenty lifetimes, so money was no problem. I could go anywhere, for any length of time and I wanted to, I really did. But I felt somewhat nervous at the prospect of going anywhere across the world without anyone for a companion. The only thing I was afraid of as a vampire was death. But now, I barely gave a thought to death, there just wasn't enough time to dwell on the inevitable. That didn't change the fact that half the supernatural population of the world would be out to get me as soon as they found out about my state of being. You'd hit a handful of supes if you threw a rock out of a window in pretty much any interesting exotic location, thus it was no surprise that I was a bit apprehensive about going anywhere without a little vampire muscle on my side. I'd made only one or two real friends in my long life. One of them was actually close by, maybe I could convince them to see the world with me.

* * *

I pondered this over as I went out for my morning run one monday. I'd taken to running as I no longer had the guarantee of a perpetually perfect body. I liked the idea of working for my sexiness though as it made the dropped jaws from men, and a lot of women, all the more rewarding. I passed the Mystic Grill as I did every morning, and found myself slowing. I ground to a halt outside the main window, and peered in to see Matt Donovan wiping a sticky booth table. I raised an eyebrow, feeling something uncomfortable in my stomach, and it wasn't PMT, which was one of the downsides to my new found mortality. I wouldn't end up staying in this hum drum town forever like that sad Matt Donovan or the home grown all American vomit fest that was the Salvatore - Gilbert clan. I made a decision there and then that I would contact my friend from near here, and I would do whatever it took to see as much as possible before a mortal death. I got home and, after throwing my sweaty gym gear in the laundry, I picked up my landline. "Operator, please may I have a New Orleans number," I said, "The number of a Thierry Vanchure?"

I grinned when I heard the dial tones. "Hello," A deep voice said after a few rings.

"Hello stranger," I replied.

"Katherine!" Thierry exclaimed, the delight evident in his voice, "It's been what, twenty years? How are things?"

"Things are... things are fine," I said, skirting over the tricky issue of my recent change in species, "How are things with you?"

"Pretty great, I'm leading trumpet soloist pretty much throughout the quarter."

"Congratulations," I said, "Listen, I was thinking about maybe coming to New Orleans for a bit. Do you think I could stay with you, maybe crash on your couch?"

"Sure, I'd love to have you. But don't bring that simpering, smitten werewolf like you did last time."

I snorted, "You mean Colin? He we're over."

"Radical," Thierry said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

I chuckled, "Yes, he turned out to be far too clingy for my taste. He mysteriously died in '97, he fell down some stairs."

"How unfortunate for him. So when can I expect you?"

"Tomorrow too soon?"

* * *

I let out a contented sigh as my plane took off from Charlottesville Airport the next day. First class, of course, so I was treated to the works; the huge comfortable seats, the excessive leg room and naturally the open bar. I couldn't remember how old I was when I was turned, but I knew that I must've been in my late teens. However, I'd adjusted my passport to read that I had just turned 21, so the drinks were flowing. By the time the plane landed, I was pretty sloshed. I wobbled slightly as I hurried through the airport, earning myself a few odd looks, and the typical lustful ones. As I rounded another corner, towards the main exit, I thought I caught a glance of a vampire I used to know in the 70's, so I sped up, almost running by the time I reached the sliding door. The cool air hit me, and I immediately felt myself relax and my head clear slightly. I hailed a cab and gave the driver my address, leaning back against the cool leather seat. His apartment was in an arty looking walk up down town. The front door to the building was slightly ajar, so I headed up. Thierry's place was the loft right at the top of the building, and the alcohol intake plus the large number of stairs had me feeling a little queasy as I rapped sharply on the door. I soon forgot any discomfort as the door opened, and Thierry appeared, his face lighting up. I threw my bags on the floor and jumped up into his arms. "It's so good to see you," I murmured, squeezing him tightly.

He chuckled into my hair, "I've missed you too little miss," He put me down, "So you've gone English again?"

I grinned, "Why yes I have sir. My American accent was boring me. It's classier, don't you think."

He grabbed my luggage and led me inside his spacious apartment, "Kat, you could talk with a stutter and a cockney drawl and still be the classiest thing on two legs."

I looked around, taking in the general splendor of the place. I let out a low whistle, "Wow T, you really are a tortured artist."

He smirked, "Shut up. Come on, I'll show you to your room."

My room was beautiful. It was huge and bathed in evening light due to the wall that was pretty much all glass. The room was taken up primarily by a comfy looking bed with an intricate metal frame. The rest of the furniture was simple, and of a dark wood. I clacked across the wooden floor and opened a door that led into a white ensuite bathroom. "Holy shit T," I said, "This place is amazing."

He smiled proudly, "I decorated it myself," He added quickly, "Don't say anything, I'm comfortable with my sexuality."

I nodded, "I can tell, that's a very interesting vest," I let out a little laugh, and threw myself down onto the bed, "So what are we doing tonight?"

He flopped down next to me, his longish curls falling into his eyes, "We can do anything you want. I do have a shift until about midnight, but from then on I'm as free as a bird. I'll give you a list of the good places to go before then," He paused and shot up, turning to face the window. I propped myself up on my elbows, studying his back. "Say it," I instructed, "Say what you've been thinking from the moment that you laid eyes on me this evening."

I saw his shoulders rise and fall as he let out a sigh, "I could tell from the moment you arrived outside the building. You smell different, Katherine, you're blood smells different. It smells enchanting," He turned, his face looking grave, "When I hugged you, I heard your heart beating regularly and fast, as if you'd just exerted yourself physically. That is a human trait, why would you show human traits?"

I studied him, before replying, "Because I'm human."

He frowned, "But how?"

"The rumors of the cure were all true. I went to procure it with some people that I used to know, they wanted to give it to a girl named Elena so we all flocked out to find it," I paused, "Believe me, this is the last thing I'd want to happen to me, but I got into a fight with the girl Elena, and the shoved the damn thing down my throat."

His eyes lit up, "So there's a cure, we can be human again?"

I swallowed, "Thierry, I'm so sorry, but there was only one dose and Elena forced me to take it."

I could see the conflict in his face. He was battling against blaming me, but he couldn't help frowning. "She sounds like a bitch," He said after a moment.

I shook my head, "That's the worst part, she's not a real bitch. I mean, I hate her guts and that will never change. But her life has been torn apart, her parents and nearly all of her family killed," I thought for a moment, "Despite her misfortunes, I can't help loathing her. She's so boring, so God damned boring without any hint of personality."

Thierry was observing me, with a slightly bemused look on his face, "You really feel passionately about this girl."

"I feel passionate about my hatred of her," I insisted, "Anyway, back on topic. You're worried about me wandering around the vampire teaming French Quarter as a mere human."

"It's not just vampires Kat, it's witches and werewolves and hybrids. You know you're not the most well liked supe in the sand pit."

"Yes yes yes, I'm sure that plenty of people here would benefit from my death, but Thierry, there's one hugely important factor you're leaving out."

"What's that then?"

"My blood is the secret ingredient to a ridiculous number of spells, so many in fact that there would be a price on the head of anyone who would try to assassinate me millions of dollars higher than the price on my own head."

He raised an eyebrow, "So I could be making some serious money with you here."

I smirked and threw a pillow at him, "Don't get any ideas, I have pepper spray somewhere."

* * *

A little later on, I was strolling down the famously beautiful Bourbon Street, absentmindedly puffing on a Marlboro Gold, admiring the sights. There were bright lights and spectacles everywhere, a real feast for the eyes. I was reminded briefly of the time I'd spent in Venice towards the end of the sixties during its famous carnival. I slowed to a stop outside a buzzing jazz club. I peeped in through the window to see a mass of grinding bodies, moving seemingly in sync to a throbbing jazz beat. "What have we got here?" A low voice asked from behind me. It was a familiar voice, and I tried very hard to place it, but to no avail. I turned slowly, and saw the last person I'd expect. "Tyler Lockwood," I stated.

He studied my face with a smirk, "Katherine Pierce," He replied, "What on Earth are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"Aren't you a little afraid of me now?" He asked, "Seeing as I'm a hybrid and you're a pathetic, weak human?"

"I don't fear death Tyler," I replied, "Life is too short for that mentality."

He smirked, "Well then, is life long enough to have a drink with me?"

I frowned, "Don't you think it's a little weird, hitting on me, I mean. I ruined the lives of all of your close friends, plus I'm identical to one of your lifelong best friends."

"I've had a pretty rough day, I could use something relaxing, maybe some... empty sex?"

I scoffed, "I don't fuck dead men anymore. Plus, you turn my stomach."

His eyes darkened, "You're going to regret that Katerina. You're in a dangerous town, with nothing to protect you. You'd better watch your back."

* * *

**_This is a completely new kind of story for me. Please read and review, and tell me what you want to happen i.e character couplings, plot twists ect._**

**_Pussyriot_**


	2. Chapter 2

_I never dreamed that I'd loose somebody like you._

"So have you decided where you want to go on vacation yet?" Thierry asked me over breakfast one morning. I'd been staying with him for a little over a week and so far, I had fallen in love with New Orleans every day. Whether I was in a café, sight seeing, partying or just sitting at home reading the New Orleans Chronicle, I felt as though I was where I was supposed to be. It felt like home. I sat up slightly and put down my forkful of bacon. "Actually I was thinking of staying here a little longer."

He nodded, "Cool, so New Orleans is your vacation?"

"Actually I was thinking of moving here full time," I replied, "Obviously I won't crash here forever, I'm actually looking at a few places this afternoon."

"Well that's fantastic," He grinned, "You'll be here in New Orleans with me, this is a dream come true. Things have actually been pretty bad around here."

"What do you mean?" I asked with a confused frown.

He sighed, "I wasn't going to tell you, but now since you're moving here, I guess I should. A friend of mine, a vamp has got in with some really scary people. A notoriously murderous guy and I'm worried that he'll end up dead or worse."

I sat forward slightly, "Have you voiced these worries to him?"

He shrugged, "He's deluded himself into thinking that these people have a single honest bone in their bodies. He seems to think that they're his 'real family' or some bullshit like that."

I thought for a moment, "So remind him who his real family are," I said, "I've been here for just a week and in that time I've been welcomed into such a warm and loyal community. The people are wonderful and interesting, and the parties are insane. Just have him back for a night or a long weekend and remind him who really loves him."

He raised his eyebrows, "He and I aren't dating, you know I'm not gay right?"

I snorted, "Yes Thierry I know. Don't you remember a certain steamy night in London during the miners' strike of 1979? I don't tend to have sex with gay men."

He chuckled, "How could I forget that night? It was one of the best of my life. You're quite spectacular darling."

"You're not so bad yourself," I looked at my watch and hopped up, "I have to go and see the first apartment, do you want to come with?"

He shook his head, "No can do, I have some errands to run."

* * *

"This is beautiful," I said, taking a few steps around the apartment. The first few were a complete bust, too small, too dark and one had a genuine roach problem. But this one was perfect. It consisted of a large, light open planned kitchen- dining room- living room area, with the couches and arm chairs facing a huge wall spanning glass window looking out over the quarter. In addition, it had two ensuite bedrooms, a utilities room and an office. I felt a build up of happiness and excitement in my gut. "This is it, this is the one," I said.

My realtor smiled, "Excellent, how about we sign some papers," He replied, opening the large leather folder he'd been balancing under his arm. I ambled over, taking in everything from the shiniest surface to the smallest wall socket. "Right," I said, my eyes finally meeting those of the realtor, "Where do I sign?"

* * *

I wandered back to Thierry's place with a spring in my step and a weight lifted from my shoulders. I had a home in one of the most fascinating cities in the country and I couldn't wait to share it with my best friend. I bounded up the stairs of his building to find his front door slightly ajar. I felt a slight jolt of panic in my gut. Years of doors slightly ajar had taught me that they were an omen. An omen of unfortunate circumstances. I pushed the door open quietly. My heart plummeted. Thierry was standing rigidly upright, his eyes widened in shock and pain due to the hand that had been pushed into his chest and was inevitably encircled around his heart. A hand belonging to non other than Elijah Mikaelsson. That moment seemed to last forever, nobody in the room had noticed me, although I could hear my heart beating in my ears. I wanted to run in and shove Elijah to the ground. But fear and shock had left me rooted to the spot. And then I heard the sickening squelching sound as Elijah retracted his hand, pulling out with it Thierry's heart. Thierry's body crumpled to the ground, lifeless, motionless. I suddenly found feeling in my legs. I let out a hideous shriek, and rushed forward. I spotted Elijah's gaze shooting to me, and his confusion out of the corner of my eye, but I didn't care. I fell down, cradling Thierry's head in my lap. I didn't care that I faced potential death from Elijah, I didn't care that Thierry's blood was covering me. All I could see was the vacant expression in my only friend's glassy eyes. "No," I sobbed, "Thierry, please don't be dead."

"Katerina," Elijah began, stepping forward. His words cut me like a thousand sharp knives, his voice sounded like the rustiest metal scraping sickeningly across a chalk board. It disgusted me. "Shut up!" I screamed at him, my voice cracking slightly.

"You can't be here," He added.

"You need to leave Elijah," A voice I didn't recognize said. I turned my head to see a somber looking dark skinned man. Something stirred inside my memory. I remembered Thierry mentioning his great friend Marcel. Elijah looked between us, and then disappeared. "You're Marcel," I said, not tearing my gaze away from Thierry's face.

"That's right," He replied, "You're Katherine."

I nodded, "We need to bury him, to give him a proper funeral."

"I know a place."

* * *

I slumped down on Thierry's couch. The burial had been nice. A number of his friends had arrived and it had taken place on the edge of a beautiful forest, a little way out of New Orleans. Marcel informed me that it was a favorite haunt of Thierry's. "What now?" I mumbled. Marcel flopped down next to me, "Well, it's tradition in New Orleans when someone dies to celebrate and honor the deceased in a way that they would approve of."

"So we're talking smooth jazz and hard liquor," I said.

He smiled, "Exactly."

"I know this may sound unspeakably arrogant," I began, fiddling with my shirt hem, "But I have some bad history with the Mikaelssons, is it my fault?"

He shook his head, vehemently, "NO Katherine, it is not your fault. Thierry was unfortunate enough to find himself caught between two powerful opposing forces."

I swallowed, "You're the friend Thierry was worried about. The one caught up with some bad people, the bad people being the Mikaelssons. How didn't I know that they were here?

When I was a vampire, I made it my life's mission to know where they were at all times. Why did I have to get sloppy?"

"None of this is your fault," He insisted. He stood up and offered me his hand, "I'm taking you out to hear some brilliant jazz, and to get completely hammered."

I took it and allowed him to haul me up, "Alright. For Thierry."

* * *

The first thing I noticed as I was dragged back to consciousness the next day was the pounding in my head. The inside of my skull felt like the much abused high-hat of a punk rock band drum kit. The second thing I noticed was the presence of a sleeping body next to me. I raised my head slightly and, with great pain and effort, I opened my eyes. Lying next to me was Thierry's friend Marcel. My heart sank, my friend was dead and, on the eve of his death and burial, I got trashed and slept with his friend. Fucking brilliant. I dropped my head back on the pillow and closed my eyes, willing it to not be true. Of course that wouldn't work. I felt Marcel stirring beside me, and I heard him let out a small groan as he woke up. "Yes this happened," I muttered, "I was hoping I'd dreamt it, not that it wasn't fantastic, I mean you're... you're very talented. But somehow it seems unsavory, like an insult to his memory."

"On the contrary," Marcel replied, his voice slightly croaky, "I think Thierry found last night entirely appropriate."

I thought for a moment, "Do you believe in God?"

"It's hard to say. You would think that centuries on this earth would've awarded me a little insight, but I'm honestly more confused than I was as a human. As a young slave I always believed in God, I couldn't comprehend a world in which people were put through such horrors without there being a light at the end of the tunnel."

"And now?" I asked.

"Now everywhere I turn, I'm faced with demons, not saints, not Gods."

"Klaus would beg to differ," I snorted, "I suppose this means that New Orleans isn't the home I'd hoped it would be."

"Why do you say that?"

"Whenever Klaus and I are in the same vicinity, bad things tend to happen. As soon as he finds out that I'm human, he'll be over here in a flash to harvest my blood for his God damned hybrids. I have to take off as soon as possible."

"I'm sorry for you," He said, "Anyone running from Klaus must be one unlucky son of a bitch."

I studied him, "How do you know Klaus, how did you get to be running in his circles?"

"He turned me back in the nineteenth century." My eyes widened, and he smiled slightly, "Believe it or not, Klaus saved me from slavery. He found me at the unmerciful hands of a plantation owner. He ripped the cracker to shreds and took me with him."

"It's funny how people can keep on surprising you, even after half a millennium of knowing one another."

"Klaus is a complicated devil. Layers and layers of issues will not give over to let you in on the truth. You peel and you peel, but you keep on finding more and more."

I shrugged, "That's why I plan to keep as far away from him as humanly, and please feel free to recognize the morbid pun, possible."

* * *

Traveling whilst hungover is a hellish experience. Every noise, every undesirable smell is magnified. I sat on my train feeling as though I was on the constant brink of throwing up the empty content of my stomach. I stepped out of my taxi and raised my eyebrows at the darkened doorway of the Mystic Grill. I hated being back, but I had a few things there that I needed to retrieve, a few loose ends I had to tie up. I made my way inside and headed straight for the bar. Much to my dismay, Matt Donovan was on duty. He glared at me, knowing instantly that I was me and not my meeker hearted doppelgänger. "What do you want?" He spat.

"Vodka tonic please," I murmured.

"You got ID?" He asked, obviously enjoying the brief moment of authority he held over me. I felt sorry for him. I handed over my illegally adjusted drivers' license that read that I was 21. He raised his eyes at it, but finding no discernible fault, handed it back. His movements were tense and violent, he obviously assumed that my presence meant a secret plan to kidnap or harm him to somehow get to Elena. I could see that he was already planning to play the hero in his mind, telling himself he wouldn't give up her location, or any information. I sighed inwardly, it was sad that these people couldn't see beyond their secluded little bubble. I thanked him for my drink and downed it in a couple of gulps. "Tequila shot please," I said, "And keep them coming."

A little while later had me suitably sloshed for the second time in two days. The only difference was that the previous night's bender had a purpose. I was celebrating a life with several like minded people. This one felt stale, and sinister as I was alone in a seedy bar in the ass end of nowhere, getting dangerously destructively drunk. I didn't care. My only friend had been murdered by my ex lover, and I had no home. Once again I found myself running, constantly looking over my shoulder. "Matt, another," I slurred, resting my head on the bar and slamming the empty shot glass down. "Isn't this a sorry sight," An irritating voice said from somewhere above me. I looked up, my vision blurring and my head rushing for a moment. "What do you want Stefan?" I asked.

"I came to see what you're doing here," He said, exchanging glances with Matt.

I looked between the two of them, and snorted, "I see, Freddie Prince Jr here alerted the scooby gang to my presence and the conspiracy theories kept on rolling," I laughed again, this time a little maniacally, "Don't you ever change your tune? For god's sake you're boring."

Stefan settled himself down next to me, "I see you're hitting the liquor pretty hard."

"By all means join me," I said, sarcastically, "I don't have much to live for nowadays."

"Why do you say that? You were given the gift of humanity, something coveted and deserved by many other than you."

I rolled my eyes, "Yes of course Elena. She deserved this cure much more than me," I sighed, "I just don't get it. Yes, I know what I did to you and your brother was unforgivable, but you people actually have the audacity to demonize me for my own self preservation. Yes, I killed myself to save myself, thus endangering Rose and Trevor, two people I didn't know and who were planning on handing me right over to Klaus for the slaughter. And I'm a monster for so doing, but when Elijah killed Trevor, and those goons to save Elena, he was a hero! Talk about double fucking standards. I think you're all just afraid of a female warrior, you're all just a little sexist," I snorted, "You know what Stefan, Elena didn't get the cure, Trevor died everybody died because life isn't a fairy tale. This epic love you talk about doesn't exist, much less does it hold the solution to your problems. You and I weren't in epic love, you and Elena weren't in epic love, Elena and Damon sure as hell aren't in epic love. And yet you persist, and push and push and push until there's no one left, and all you are is a tired empty shell of a man. But when you and all of your friends kill it's okay because it's all in the name of epic love. Well you know what, at the end of the day there is no epic love. Epic love can't bring Rose and Trevor back to life, Epic life can't undo the murder of my only friend. The one person who understood me, the one person I wasn't selfish with. And he was killed last night. And it wasn't my fault, yet I feel so guilty. So guilty that I would gladly die to escape it."

"What a revelation," Another unwanted voice said behind me. I span on my seat to see Damon Salvatore smirking at me. "Well well Miss Katherine, you're a sight for sore eyes. Particularly as these eyes belong to a man who just struck a deal with the devil himself."

I raised an eyebrow, "Do your worst Salvatore."

"As soon as Mutt here alerted us to your presence, well I couldn't help myself. I had to tell all of my closest friends. One of which was particularly eager to chat as he'd just found out that you're all human again. So he and I got to talking and he agreed to help solve our pesky traveler problem in exchange for your magic hybrid making blood. They'll be a car waiting for you at the boarding house first thing in the morning, so you need a good nights sleep."

I studied him, before turning back to Matt and Stefan, "You know the most shocking part of that story was the revelation that Damon actually has friends. Amazing."


	3. Chapter 3

_What a Wicked game to play_

There I was, sitting in the Salvatore living room with no one but Damon for company, awaiting my deliverance into hell. Surprisingly enough, I wasn't overcome with the urge to punch him in the face, I'd never felt so extraordinarily zen in my life, Thierry's death had left me feeling numb. "You don't look so scared Kitty Kat," Damon sing-songed, "Hybrid got you tongue?"

I stared blankly into the roaring fire, "Well Klaus needs me for his hybrids so I doubt he's considering killing me. Sure he could drain my blood and satiate his creepy hybrid lust for a while, but it would never be enough for our excessive Klaus. I bet you that he finds a way to keep me alive for ages so that he can churn out sired followers until the end of days."

I felt him tense up beside me, "You always find a way of coming out on top," He said through clenched teeth. "Actually Damon, this time you found a way for me to stay on top. One might assume that you still care," I replied airily, "But of course You could never deceive your precious Elena. Just wait Damon, they all go running back to Stefan. Oh Sure you make her feel alive, you make her vampirism feel like a beautiful gift. Does that remind you of anyone Damon, do you remember how I would make you feel alive?"

"My relationship with Elena is nothing like ours used to be," He snapped back.

I shrugged, "Whatever. Don't come crying to me when, in a few centuries time, the one who you thought loved you is holding you to hand you over to your certain death. Or, if not death, certain mind splitting pain."

He shook his head vehemently, "No, Elena is nothing like you."

"Nothing like me Damon? I'm not the one holding a former lover, ready to hand them over, you are."

His eyes narrowed and he shot up, "Nope, no way. I am not falling for any of your mind games. You realize that I can rip your head off you shoulders in a second."

"Please do," I replied flatly, "Then I can die happy in the knowledge that Klaus will not hep you with your pesky traveler problem."

We heard footsteps and Elena appeared in the doorway. She had on her regular worried-scared-bemused expression that she wore so well. Her eyes drifted from me on the sofa to where Damon stood, breathing heavily. "Damon," She said, "What's going on?"

"Babe, you owe me a huge present," He replied, moving over to her, "I've struck a deal with Klaus. His help with our travelers in exchange for Katherine here."

Her gaze fell on me. She didn't gloat like most would, there was no hint of smile or smirk in those doe eyes, it was sickening. "So when's he coming for her?" She asked.

"First thing tomorrow. I'm sticking her in the east facing guest room tonight."

She raised her eyebrows, "Wouldn't it be better to put her downstairs?"

He shook his head, turning to look at me, "She won't try running. Not this time."

Inwardly, I rolled my eyes. If only he knew how inconsequential he was to me. I didn't care about him, or his little life or his little friends. "One of the downsides to being human is that you need food," I said, "Do you have anything to eat?"

"Why should we help you?" Elena asked.

I shrugged, "You shouldn't, but starvation isn't particularly good for red blood cell development and since that's your only bargaining chip , I'd suggest that you nurture it as much as possible between now and tomorrow." I stood up and made my way to the front door. Damon was blocking my way in a second. "Where do you think you're going?" He asked. "I need a cigarette," I replied, "I assume that under this new management, you don't allow smoking inside?"

"You can smoke in here," Elena said.

I turned to raise my eyebrows at her, "Well thanks," I said, pulling out my battered packet of SilkCuts from my pocket. I lit up and flopped back down on the sofa. "Don't you think now that you're human you ought to quit smoking?" Elena said.

I fought an urge to roll my eyes, "Has anyone ever told you that you suck at small talk?"

"Don't listen to her babe, she's just being a sore loser."

I couldn't help it, I began to laugh uncontrollably, "You really think you've won don't you?," I shook my head, "Don't you get it, the tables have turned. I ran for half a century from Klaus

for saving myself. Now I'm the one he needs and you're the ones who've monumentally pissed him off and deceived him time and time again. You think he's just going to let that go? God you must think pretty highly of yourselves. You think Klaus gives a fuck about compassion? Elena's compassionate so he's just going to overlook the fact that you deceived him during the blood ritual, and then again by turning her into a vampire and then again by not making her take the cure. Your arrogance is unfathomable."

"But we're giving him you," Elena said, sounding unsure of herself.

I rolled my eyes, "And Rose and Trevor gave you to Elijah, but look at what happened to Trevor, and Elijah's the 'honorable' one."

Damon opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the doorbell. He went to answer it. "Who the fuck are you?" he demanded.

I stood up, "Marcel. WHat are you doing here?"

"I work for Klaus Mikaelsson, I'm here to pick up Katherine Pierce."

Damon narrowed his eyes, "I was told that you'd be coming tomorrow."

"Plans change, Klaus isn't a very patient man. I might take this opportunity to warn you that I'm older and stronger than both of you combined."

Damon looked annoyed, but proceeded to grab me and thrust me at Marcel. "It's been a pleasure Kat," He said with a smirk.

"I'll see you at your funeral Salvatore," I replied.

* * *

"So what's the deal?" I demanded as I was bundled into Marcel's car, "You're going to go back to them after they killed Thierry?"

He shook his head as he set the car into gear, "No. I wasn't supposed to come tonight. I'm taking you back to New Orleans in secret, you'll live in your new place and nobody will know."

"But you're risking everything," I said.

He shook his head, "I don't care. We will destroy the Mikaelssons and balance will be restored to the city. We might have to use your place as a base."

I shrugged, "Whatever, just don't get anything on the carpets I'm having laid down. Those things cost a fucking fortune."

* * *

I woke up the next day with an incredibly sore feeling in my neck. I sat up in the unfamiliar bed and remembered that I'd spent almost seven hours in a car the previous night. I hopped out of bed and left the bedroom to see that I was in my new and furnished apartment. "Morning," Marcel said from the kitchen. He was holding a mug of coffee and looked fairly bleary eyed. "Did you furnish my apartment?" I asked.

He nodded, "I thought that, if you're returning home a fugitive you may as well hide in style. Do you like it, is it okay?"

I grinned, "Like it? I love it! The furniture is so beautiful and holy shit the pillows are soft."

His face broke into a charming smile, "Glad you like it. I have to be off in a second, I have a few meetings with a friend named Diego, and then I have to blow off the rest of the day pretending that I'm fetching you."

"How are you going to cover that one up, by the way?"

"I'm going to make up some bullshit about an ally of yours beating me up and saving you, which reminds me," He emerged from around the island carrying a hoard of shopping bags. "What are those?" I asked.

"In here are a whole load of wigs and sun glasses and hats and crazy costumes. I thought you might like to leave the house without being kidnapped by the Mikaelsson family funk."

I chuckled, "That's very thoughtful."

He smiled and dropped his mug in the sink, "I should be going."

"Have a good day."

* * *

Once he had gone, I looked around the empty apartment, letting out a contented sigh. I was finally alone in a place where no one undesirable could reach me. I flopped down onto the squashy sofa and stretched out my body like a cat. "This is the life," I sighed. I rested there quietly for a while, until I was rudely awoken by a loud knocking at the door. I hopped up off the couch and made my way to the door. It was too early to be Marcel's return, and he didn't mention that I should be expecting anyone else. Before I answered the door, I hurriedly fumbled around in one of the shopping bags and pulled out a ridiculous ginger wig and movie star sunglasses. They weren't much, but I shoved them on and opened the door. "You look ridiculous."

I yanked off the sunglasses and my face broke into a mad grin, "Thierry!" I cried, "What the hell are you doing here?"

He grinned, "Well I was a vampire when I died, so I went over to the other side. You're officially a traveler, at least your family were travelers, so you can see me."

I frowned, "You didn't find peace?"

He shook his head, "It seems I can't find peace until you do, until you're happy, or something."

"Oh God Thierry, you did not pick a particularly well adjusted person to attach yourself to. I don't think I've ever been happy a day in my life."

An awkward look moved across his face, "Listen Kat... I think..."

"Yes?"

"I think perhaps staying here is an incredibly stupid idea."

"Come inside," I said.

"A stupid idea?" I repeated, "I know this town is full of dangerous people, but none of them know that I'm here."

Thierry ran a frustrated hand through his hair, "You don't understand, Klaus has spies everywhere. One of those spies was Marcel, he was Klaus' right hand for God's sake. His feelings towards Klaus change every five minutes. Today he's against him, tomorrow they'll be thick as thieves and it will be your head on the block."

"I trust Marcel," I replied.

"You've slept with him, there's a difference."

I paused, taken aback and hurt by his harsh words. I looked around the apartment and then walked round to the kitchen to make a coffee. "You know what my favorite thing about being a vampire has been?" He shook his head, "Living in a time when women aren't frowned upon and alienated for enjoying the same freedoms as men. Yes I slept with Marcel because I wanted to, but I trusted him before I did."

Thierry studied my face for a moment, "You're an intelligent woman Kat, you always have been. I've trusted your judgement from the moment we first met, but I have to interject here. I know Marcel well, he's my closest friend other than you and I have witnessed him completely conflicted over his feelings towards the Mikaelssons. They sired him, gave him life and freedom, which was something he'd never experienced before. He's bound to have attachments to them, it's only natural."

I nodded, "I understand that, but no one understands the lengths of their cruelty like I do. Given time with me, Marcel will come to terms with it too, I know."

Thierry nodded, "Whatever you decide, I'll support."

"Good, now let's get drunk, if you can still do that. I'm likely to be stuck here, but I know it's been stocked up with the good stuff. I'm thinking we begin with amber, and then go green."

* * *

I woke up the next day deeply regretting the excessive alcohol intake of the previous night. It turned out that, as a ghost, Thierry could indeed drink. But, as a ghost, he didn't feel the effects of alcohol as much as I did and thus didn't end up screaming the lyrics to '_I'm too sexy for my shirt' _out of the main window at three AM. I fell out of bed, unsure of what to do with myself that day. That was when my gaze fell upon the bag of 'disguises' Marcel had dropped off. I shrugged to myself, why not try a bit of sight seeing. After all, New Orleans was a big place. With a bit of disguise, I could easily walk the streets unnoticed. I showered, and chose a rather reserved outfit, compared to my usual standards, of a slightly baggy red summer dress. I selected a sleek black bob from the bag and paired it with a floppy white sunhat. The morning sun was warm, but not too intrusive. The streets were lively and booming, it seemed as thought the whole of the city's population had come out for the morning shopping. I wandered down a slightly less popular street and stopped in front of a beautiful Catholic church. I smirked as I thought of my lapsed faith. A faith that had lapsed in the late fifteenth century. I smiled to myself once more, and stepped inside, shutting the heavy wooden door softly behind me. The church was nicely cool compared to the heat of the day, and I found myself admiring the pleasant, albeit a tad modern for my taste, architecture. "Good morning Miss." I turned to see an unfairly good looking priest standing by the altar. "Hello," I replied, "I'm just looking around, I hope that's alright."

He smiled and nodded, "Of course, we welcome all guests. Are you a Catholic?"

"I'm afraid not," I shot him an apologetic smile, "My Catholicism has lapsed, but I did have my first holy communion, and my confirmation and the whole nine yards. So I suppose I am eligible to be within these walls."

He chuckled, "So you have no faith?"

"I think that there's enough for one to worry about on the earth without concerning oneself with the afterlife. I can't say if there's a God, but I've certainly known devils in my time."

He nodded with a slightly knowing smile. "We've all faced difficulties, but I imagine none worse than a beautiful young woman..." His smile vanished as he trailed off, "Klaus."

"Well yes," I replied, "But how do you..." I felt a series of spine tingling chills run up my back to my neck. The temperature of the church seemed to have dropped as I felt the presence from somewhere behind me. I swallowed and turned slowly. There he stood as handsome as ever. The great antagonist of my life, the devil forever on my doorstep, the master of my universe. His eyebrows rose as his lips quirked up in a sadistic, beautiful smile. "Katerina, it has been a while."


End file.
